


Good Times, Bad Decisions

by Queerapika



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 10:16:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15337734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queerapika/pseuds/Queerapika
Summary: How to deal with having a crush on your roommate? Poorly, if you're Leorio.





	Good Times, Bad Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> The title's from Bastille's 'Quarter Past Midnight'. A huge thank you goes out to zenelly for looking over this last minute.

It was hot. So unbearably fucking hot that the asphalt turned soft under your feet, that the air around you turned into something tangible, that the folds of your body turned into swamps and his roommate had the fucking nerve to ask him why he wasn't wearing any pants. Leorio huffed and took off his soaked t-shirt too.

"It's hotter than Satan's moist asshole," Leorio continued his internal monologue, this time sharing his insight with his roommate, "so first of all I'm pretty sure there's no such thing as an inappropriate outfit right now. Second, I live here. And third, you've seen me with my dick out before, I don't get why this is such a big deal!"

Leorio tried to gesture as well as he could considering that his naked back had instantly melted into the old, worn-out, fake leather couch that he had planned to take a nap on before Kurapika came back from his classes.

"That was for  _ art _ ," Kurapika replied, his mouth set in a hard line, no doubt clenching his teeth. He said the word  _ art _ as if it ought to be capitalized.

"Well, then get out your drawing pad and let me drop my undies too and you can use me for drawing practice as long as you get off my case," Leorio growled. 

"No thank you. I have seen enough of you to last me for another lifetime."

Leorio wished he could pretend that the jab at his pride didn't hurt. And after he'd been so generous too. Usually money was the only thing that could make him go full nude. Well that, and the promise of a little bit of fun.

Kurapika wasn't fun.

Kurapika was an art student. Sharp and impossibly beautiful and very quick to sneer at Leorio for... pretty much anything, really. Dirty dishes that he forgot in the sink, laundry that piled up on his floor, burping too loud when he was drinking beer - if Leorio were to compose a list of things that aggravated Kurapika, he might as well dedicate half a lifetime to it. Of course, he'd never do that because it was petty and also, Leorio didn't like to admit he dedicated any time to thinking about Kurapika at all. Just like he'd rather eat his own tongue than to confess that Kurapika caught his eye from the very first time Leorio stepped into the figure drawing class.

 

( _ "Don't worry," the class teacher had said when Leorio found himself struggling with a sheet that refused to stay draped around his form as he stripped down, “they will pay a lot less attention to you than you think. I know it's weird at first, but try to think of yourself as a statue. Because that's what you are to them - a living, breathing statue. They're not going to see  _ you _.” _

_ Leorio had nodded without believing a word. And then he went out there and locked eyes with the one person he wanted to be seen by. _ )

Just a few weeks later his had roommate moved out.

And then Kurapika stood in front of his door.

( _ "Is there something wrong with my face?", he had asked when Leorio gave him a very short tour through the apartment, arms crossed in front of his chest but keeping his back straight as if preparing to square up. _

_ "Hm? No, nothing, it's just. I've seen you in class before." _

_ "Oh? Which one?" _

_ "Uh. Miss Melody's class." _

_ And between Kurapika's brows appeared very cute frowning lines. "Really? I don't recall- oh. Oh. You're the model with the freckles on his back and the appendix scar! I didn't recognize you with your clothes on." _

_ The awkward pause that followed was not long enough for Leorio to gather the shattered remains of his pride. And Kurapika's face scrunched up as if he had bitten on something bitter. "Please forget I ever said that.") _

But Leorio couldn't. And really, it would have just been the best call to pick someone - anyone - else as his new roommate than the guy whose intense eyes Leorio dreamed of when he tried to... blow off some steam.

But Leorio wasn't exactly known for making smart decisions.

 

While Leorio had an excuse for his stupidity, Kurapika could make no such claim. He was smart and sensible, very much capable of thinking about consequences before he took an action. And it had been this sensible, rational part of his brain that had told him that the amount of rent money in relation to size and cleanliness and accessibility of the apartment should be the only factors weighing in on his decision.

That the strange, awkward prickling under his skin would eventually fade once he got to know his roommate as a person, rather than the object of his art. And fade it did - only to be replaced by a worse sensation, a horrible revelation.

His roommate was... attractive. And so Kurapika's artistic knowledge of his body gained a new, sensual context. Leorio was built like a greek statue and rather well endowed and now, the rules of the classroom no longer applied. There was nothing but his own pride stopping Kurapika from running his hands over the swell of muscles that he had drawn countless times. He even suspected that his attention might not be that unwelcome. Leorio was a friend of half-joking flirtations, he enjoyed them just as much as he enjoyed kissing pretty girls.

But they were roommates. And Kurapika wasn't going to let a moment of weakness ruin his day-to-day interactions.

But god, Leorio wasn't making this easy. Especially not when he was draped over the couch like this: no shirt, no pants, skin glistening with sweat. The hair on his chest seemed to invite for some playful tugging and Kurapika bit his lip in disapproval. 

"Are you thirsty?", Leorio asked, his voice low, his stomach rolling as he breathed and what would Kurapika have given to dip his head low and press his lips on the spot of Leorio's hips where his surgery scar peeked out from beneath his waistband.

"Absolutely not," Kurapika croaked. He was parched, could feel his lips’ tautness that begged for a bit of balm, but he wasn't going to fall for the stupid innuendo.

Leorio sat up and his skin made an awful velcro noise as it unstuck from the seats. "Ew. Well, you should try to drink something regardless, especially in that heat. If you get thirsty, it's already too late because then you're dehydrated. Also, i got some ice cream, if you want some?"

"Not right now."

"Alright, I'll be back in a minute."

Kurapika really had better things to do than sit and spend time with Leorio for the sake of socializing alone. He had a test next week that he needed to study for and an essay to write about Baroque architecture... and yet he found himself sliding his messenger bag off his shoulders and sat down on the floor. He searched his bag for a flyer that some enthusiastic kid on campus had pushed in his hands and fanned his heated face with it. Kurapika closed his eyes. He could still feel the sun burning his cheekbones, could feel his skin turning tacky with salt and grime. If he was honest, stripping off his clothes sounded divine about right now. 

He should get his laptop and head to the library, but the air was no less stale there. Heavier even, mingled with all the frustration of his fellow students.

Leorio returned, taking large strides with his long, sculpted legs and he stopped next to Kurapika, stooping low to place a glass of water in front of his roommate. "There you go."

Kurapika wrapped his hand around the glass and frowned. "It's warm." 

"It's room temperature. Better for your stomach. Also, drinking something cold actually doesn't cool you down, it only makes you sweat more because your body has to use energy to heat up the cold stuff you dumped into you."

"That sounds like bullshit."

"If you want to cool down it's better to let some cold water run over your pulse."

"I don't need to cool down, I'm fine," Kurapika complained but took a sip of his lukewarm water anyway. It tasted disgusting. Stale somehow.

Leorio plopped down on his seat with a shit-eating grin and tore open the wrapper that he had hidden behind his back. "Of course, if the water's not to your taste, you can have one of these bad boys." He peeled out a cream popsicle and let his eyebrows waggle invitingly.

"I can't have dairy."

"One isn't gonna kill you."

No, but the pain wasn't worth the trouble. The smell, the cramps, the fatigue afterwards... malabsorption was far from pretty and Kurapika would rather be caught dead than risk an episode while Leorio was around. Nor did he feel like explaining in great detail just how badly the lactose could wreck him in a weak moment. So, he glared and said something unconvincing about having homework.

"Suit yourself." Leorio shrugged and let the popsicle slide into his mouth in an almost obscene fashion.

Leorio was a messy eater. Kurapika knew this, yet nothing had prepared him for the way Leorio closed his eyes and hummed in delight as his lips closed around the tip of the popsicle. They lingered there, before he greedily took in more of his sweet treat, engulfed it almost all the way to the stem. And then Leorio pulled it back again with a soft pop. He licked his lips, satisfied. Unaware of the milky trickle at the corner of his mouth. Unaware, too, of the way Kurapika's eyes narrowed on the display.

Kurapika's skin grew too hot underneath his clothes. He yanked on his t-shirt collar, to allow for more air as a flush crept up his neck, burned his cheeks. 

Then Leorio's tongue teased along the length of the ice and Kurapika took a breath and held it while his toes curled and his hands balled to fists and a demanding pulse spread in his lower abdomen. 

Without thinking, he hastily grabbed for all of his possessions and ran to his room, not bothering with explanations or apologies.

As soon as he had slammed the door behind him, Kurapika dropped everything and shoved his hand below his waistband. With the sight of Leorio still burning behind his eyelids, he jerked himself off. It was helpless and messy and desperate. He bit his lips so hard he drew blood.

 

The slam of Kurapika's door was still echoing through the air when Leorio whipped out his phone and immediately texted Killua.

_ Didn't work. _

And right away, Killua started typing, almost as if he'd been waiting for an update on what he liked to call 'the Kurapika situation'. Then again, Killua was on his phone most of the time anyway.

_ Wait, you really tried it? Wow, dude, you are *desperate* _

Leorio jiggled his leg ferociously. Well. What did he expect? That Kurapika would just stand up, pull down his pants and give him something better to wrap his tongue around? The thought sent a little jolt right through his pelvis, but no matter how appealing, life wasn't a damn porn movie.

_ No amount of studying can teach you class, Leorio, _ Kurapika had said on the day that he moved in and there wasn't a damn day when he let Leorio forget about it. Well, fuck Kurapika. Fuck his stuck-up attitude and his stupid obsession with 'manners' because if he thought Leorio was gonna go through the whole stupid circus of buying flowers and writing poetry and taking him to fancy restaurants-

His phone buzzed again. Zepile.

_ Killua said you actually vored a popsicle to get into Pikachu's pants and I'm not sure if I should be scared or impressed _

_ How did he react? I'm assuming he didn't murder you b/c you were capable of texting Killua _

Leorio grunted. 

_ He ran away _

Seen. Replying.

God, Leorio could just imagine Zepile's ugly laughter echoing through the room.

_ Dude you need to work on your technique. Did you use teeth? You gotta be careful with that, not every guy's into that _

Leorio grumbled and ducked his head, embarrassment flushing his cheeks with heat.

_ Fuck u, Zep _

He really wished he had more going on for himself, but as things were, he didn't see what he could do to appeal to Kurapika that didn't involve sex, and if he was honest, he hadn't noticed any proof yet that his roommate was into that either. Kurapika liked guys, yes, but he was tight-lipped whenever Leorio showed any interest in the specifics of it.

If he had money, Leorio wouldn't have to worry about that. The most he could afford right now was coffee or dinner at Subway, once in a month. And everything about Kurapika, from the determined set of his eyebrow to his polished way of speaking suggested that Kurapika would like some sort of courtship. And no matter how often Leorio told himself that a dude who looked down upon him for being poor could go fuck himself, his pride kind of crumbled in front of Kurapika.

So he kept making a fool of himself. And he kept making excuses for Kurapika.

Because Kurapika wasn't wholly stupid about money, he just kept frowning at Leorio for living on instant noodles and gross vending machine coffee, or - god forbid - eating something even after it has been dropped to the floor. Like, yeah, the 5 second rule should not apply for a floor as gross as theirs. But there had been a time in his first college year when Leorio sometimes had to make a decision between eating moldy bread or eating nothing at all. (He picked off the moldy bits, of course, but the spores... he didn't like to think back to that time.)

Eating healthy was a privilege and it sucked.

Society's idea of dating was a classist farce and that sucked even more.

His phone buzzed. Leorio squinted at the caller ID and took the call.

"Wanna get shit faced and cry about your latest romantic failure?" Zepile asked, not unsympathetically.

"Mh. Bad idea. I haven't eaten anything all day." He hadn't been hungry. That was the only benefit of this nasty heat, he could get through the day running on off-brand cola and didn't have to waste time cooking. Very budget friendly.

"How does dinner sound then? The good old chinese and budweiser combo?"

"Zepile-"

"I convinced Killua to pay for you if you offer him all the most embarrassing details."

"You are my best friend and I love you."

Zepile barks a laugh. “I’m not sure I’m the one you should be telling, this, you know.”

“Ugh, shut up.  That's embarrassing.”

 

* * *

 

If Kurapika was honest, living with Leorio wasn't  _ that _ bad. Hormonal complications aside, Leorio could be a considerate roommate. Messy, yes, but he made some effort to keep the mess contained to his own room. And he was considerate. And he always knew what was on sale in which supermarket. 

Every friday evening, they sat together to make a shopping battle plan. With Kurapika's eidetic memory and Leorio's eye for sales, they put together lists on which items to buy in which store, then split to get everything with a minimum waste of time. Leorio made sure to pick the list that required the most heavy lifting. Kurapika also insisted they keep the receipts and sorted them by stores, then by the end of the month put together a comparison on where they had left the most money - then checked out if the store had a customer card system that was worth looking into.

Kurapika's father was an accountant, so he had grown up learning how to budget. He used spreadsheets, to keep track of their monthly expenses - and Leorio was impressed.

(Unfortunately, with all their spending habits laid bare like that, it was hard to help out Leorio financially without ruffling his pride. Because he was weird like that. Had no issues accepting favors from Killua because "guy's so filthy rich, he doesn't know better than to throw money at things". But Kurapika kept wondering if that was the only reason.)

Then of course there were those nights where they both stayed up disgustingly late to study, to write essays, where they ended up meeting in the kitchen past 2 pm, both too exhausted to keep up with their pretenses. Those times when Leorio stopped acting like a damn fratboy, where he was quiet and rough and... honest. When even his laughter sounded different. Sadder somehow. A laugh that crept right under the hollow of Kurapika's sternum and seized him there.

(And he thought, absently, that this side of Leorio was one he could easily fall in love with.)

Kurapika really enjoyed the conversations that happened in this special bubble of time. 

"Isn't it weird?", Leorio asked, about three nights after the popsicle debacle that Kurapika refused to think of. "Drawing people naked? Having to scrutinize all of their body?"

"Scrutinize?", Kurapika laughed, "that's what you think we're doing?"

"I mean, you are doing an awful lot of frowning while you draw. But I can never tell if that's just your regular concentration face or not."

Leorio had a bottle of beer standing in front of him on the table, but he hadn't taken a single sip yet. He hadn't even opened it, just dug his thumbnail underneath the label. "What are you thinking of while you're drawing?"

"Not much, actually."

"You never, like, secretly rate your models based on hotness?"

Kurapika snorted. "No? Why would you think that? That's not... that's absolutely not what this class is for. Like, not all of our models look like you."

"Like me?", Leorio parroted and his head perked up. "What do you mean by that?"

_Shit._ "I mean...", Kurapika gestured vaguely. How to get his point across without saying something that Leorio would be smug about forever? "Not everyone that signs up for it is a relatively muscular built college student. We get elderly people and fat people, people with a lot of scars or very asymmetric features. And I really like that because, in a way, you get a much better idea of how diverse the human body is. Everyone has folds and everyone has fat in different ways and..." He shrugged, suddenly unsure of where to go from there. "There's no judgment to that. But it's also eye-opening in a way because suddenly you turn on the TV and you think how fake it is that they gathered all these people with the exact same body type, the exact same facial symmetry."

"And then someone decides that those few get to be the standard for what's attractive and what's not," Leorio growled. Dragged his nails across his forearm absently.

"Yes," Kurapika agreed, tongue heavy. He hadn't expected Leorio to understand, considering that he was the very image they were walking off. Tall, with great skin and a square jaw, well-kempt but not so much it would be considered effeminate. "Isn't it weird for you? To be modeling, I mean. Considering all your weird ideas about how the artists are going to rate you and what they focus their attention on?"

"I mean, I'm always convinced everyone's staring at me anyway, so- no, not like that," he added when Kurapika rolled his eyes. "I mean, I'm always sticking out in a crowd and I feel like I always get in the way. I'm not graceful, like you, or quiet. I don't know how to talk eloquently or walk like i got money. I feel... like someday someone's gonna come up to me and say 'sorry, but you don't belong here'. I feel like people are just waiting for an excuse to tell me that. Does that make sense?" Leorio's turned to Kurapika sheepishly. "I mean that probably sounds super dumb, doesn't it?"

"No, I know what you mean," Kurapika assured. He licked his lips, considering. There was a word for that, although Kurapika was not sure if Leorio wanted to claim that for himself.

"So, yeah. The posing is... kind of super awkward, I can't lie. I mean, the good thing is, I don't need to do shit except sit or stand and move as little as possible. It's not a performance. Hard to mess up. But whenever I hear someone snicker I wonder... you now, what is it they're snickering at? I don't like the idea of being scrutinized and picked apart by people who don't give a shit about me." He shrugged. "But I'm getting paid for it, so I can't complain."

_ 'And what is is that you're scared they might find?' _ , Kurapika wanted to ask, but he knew that might go too far.  They weren't friends, not really. Just two people who happened to live in the same space. But he really wanted to reach out. Kurapika sighed, already regretting what he was about to say next. "You know, I hadn't pegged you to to be the self-conscious type, with all your prancing and teasing-" Leorio scoffed, but Kurapika didn't let that interrupt him - "but if you really want to know, if someone snickers, it's probably because they think you're hot."

And just like a puppy that had been offered a treat, Leorio's head perked up. "Really?" He beamed. "You think I'm hot?"

"I didn't say that," Kurapika hissed. "You'll never hear  _ me _ snicker in class."

"No, I suppose not. Because you'd actually have to look up from your drawing pad to see something worth snickering. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if you just draw from memory."

He bit the inside of his cheek. The truth was, Kurapika was very good at looking when Leorio wasn't. It had become kind of a survival tactic. "You pay attention to me when I'm drawing?"

"Uh. Yeah. I know it should be weird because you're my roommate and all, but it kind of helps having a familiar face to focus on. Also, I like watching you work."

"Leorio...", Kurapika began, but Leorio suddenly dropped his hands on the table and announced, a little too loudly: "Jesus, it's late. I just remembered I gotta run to the copy shop tomorrow before class. Shit. I'm gonna be a zombie tomorrow." He tried to stand up and pull back his chair as the same time and nearly stumbled over a leg chair while doing so. "Fuck."

"Do you want me to wake you tomorrow?"

"Um." Leorio hesitated so hard, he froze mid-flee. "That would be- nice? But you don't have to, really. Like, if you could just knock really loudly on my door if I'm not up by eight, that would be... great. I didn't mean for that to rhyme."

Kurapika was helpless to the smile that slipped on his face. "Eight, then. And if I don't see you in the kitchen ten minutes later, I  _ will _ come in."

"Hey now, don't threaten me like that. I can't expose you to that ecosystem."

Kurapika snorted. "Good night, Leorio."

"Night, Peeks."

Kurapika hated nicknames, but this time he let it slide. It was late, after all, and he felt chivalrous.

 

* * *

 

The morning after their little late night conversation, Leorio felt inspired. Although his body ached as if a truck had run over him multiple times and his eyelids were so puffy that one might suspect an allergic reaction, he forced himself out of bed before Kurapika could knock on his door. He slouched into the bathroom, washed his face and then took an ice cube from the freezer and popped it in his mouth. A radical, almost painful trick to wake himself up that left him with watering eyes and brain freeze, but fuck, he had  _ plans _ for today.

First, he was going to dash to the copy shop to print out his essay. Then he would force himself through his morning classes, hand in the essay and come back by noon to take a two hour nap.

And then - and this represented the important part - he had 3 hours to clean up their apartment until it was spotless before his roommate came home. Maybe he'd even put up some candles, for atmosphere. Then Leorio would wait for Kurapika to be impressed. They'd order dinner from their favorite delivery place and watch something stupid on Netflix, squished together on their little couch so they could both look at Kurapika's laptop screen. And maybe, if the mood was right, Leorio would put his arm around Kurapika.

Because that was the new plan. No more suggestive jokes, no more charades. Leorio was going to treat Kurapika as if he was already his boyfriend and hope that things would just grow from there.

Because Kurapika had called him  _ hot _ . That counted for something, right? But he'd also said more or less that he didn't care so much about looks. So maybe Leorio could take things a lot slower, and maybe he had been trying to impress Kurapika with all the wrong things. Maybe the best way to get with Kurapika was just to show him what he could have. That Leorio was boyfriend material.

 

"Theoretically, at which point in your great plan do you tell the dude you're into him?", Zepile asks after Leorio spent the first few minutes of their accounting class laying down his plan to his friend.

"See, that's the beautiful part. I won't have to. Because he's just going to wake up one day and ask himself 'wait a second, am I your boyfriend?' and that's gonna seal the deal. And I can cut the bullshit with the dating and all the awkward feeling talk and move straight on to the honeymoon phase."

"Or, you're going to creep him out with your sudden change in behaviour. I mean, have you considered just telling him, really low key?"

Leorio pouted. "You sound like Gon."

"Well, the kid has a point. If you want Kurapika to consider you as an option, you should let him know that you  _ are _ one. Just a quick  _ 'you know, I'm not really looking for a boyfriend or a girlfriend right now, but if I was, you'd probably be my first choice' _ . Super casual. Then leave the room and let him stew with it. Works even better if you're tipsy."

"Yeah, you don't know him like I do. There's gonna be no stewing. He'll hunt me down and turn it into a full interrogation. He'll go full lawyer on me, Zep. I can't do that."

"You've been at it for five months now, and he didn't get the hint. I'm afraid you'll have to spell it out at some point."

"But that's just gonna make things weird, don't you see? Unless I can be absolutely sure that he is on the same page as me, I'll just fuck myself if I say anything."

At that, the student in the front row of them turned and whispered: "Yo, this is all super intriguing and shit, but can you two shut the fuck up? Some people are here for the class."

"Sorry," Leorio and Zepile mumbled in unison.

"Also, your friend is right, just man up and confess. No one likes to be left in the dark"

"No one asked  _ you _ ," Leorio hissed under his breath.

But Zepile's shoulders shook with restrained laughter. "Listen to the voice of the people, Leorio."

 

So he found himself back at his room, collapsing on his bed - but instead of sleep, Leorio only found his friends’ advice echoing in his head. And then he pictured himself taking the honest approach... and Kurapika laughing at him because he thought it a joke. And then Leorio would have to flee the state and start a new life at the countryside where no one knew his real name and he'd just be the loner at the bar who had a dark secret lurking in his eyes.

He moped like this for another twenty minutes before he stood up, made himself some coffee and began unfucking his own room. Throw out some trash, pick up the dirty laundry and stuff them in a bag for the weekend laundromat visit. He put his dirty dishes and cups in the sink, without facing judgment or shame. He picked up all his scattered notes and sorted them by class, then filed them into their respective folders. And most importantly, he hid his porn at the bottom of his underwear drawer. And once his floor had been cleared of debris and was deemed somewhat appropriate for his crush's-slash-roommate's eyes, Leorio poured himself another cup of coffee and moved on to the living room.

 

He found the sketchbook under the coffee table, next to a popsicle wrapper and a dirty spoon. 

Leorio didn't mean to open it and pry, his hands went through the motion on their own, in sync with the rhythm of cleaning: take, examine, categorize. Put away. Except he never quite got to the last point.

Leorio frowned and started leafing through the pages. Kurapika's pencil work was sometimes erratic, sometimes minute and detail focused, but always dedicated. Dedicated, in particular to the subject of his studies. Between these pages that smelled like graphite and the comfort of well-handled books, Leorio found himself. Sometimes nude, sometimes dressed in his daywear. Often smiling. The nude studies were from class, or so Leorio supposed until he moved on to the later pages. The sketches had less detail there, his pelvis just hinted at by a triangle of shadows where his thighs met his hip. 

So, what did it mean, that Kurapika spared almost kind detail to the hair that covered Leorio's body, remembered to distinct between its respective structures? Coarse on the chest and along the inner thighs, prickling across his shins. The long dark hairs across his forearm, the 3 days old stubble that he sported along his jaw when exams left little time for the even basic necessities, much less intense pruning.

And yet, there was a part of Leorio he avoided. Did he find dicks unappealing or was that a sentiment particular to his roommate? Did it even make him uncomfortable? Or did it mean that Kurapika plain refused to think of Leorio in a sexual context? The more Leorio browsed, the more questions Leorio asked himself, often mirroring each other. Because, in a way, they were all the same question. And he wouldn't find the answer between these pages.

Then a key turned in the apartment lock and Leorio jumped in his skin. He closed the book with a thump and wanted to run, but only banged his shin against the coffee table and nearly fell on top of it.

"Hey," Kurapika said by way of greeting.

"You're home early." Leorio pressed the book against his chest like a treasure, to shield it from Kurapika's too keen eyes, but there was an uncharacteristic slump to his roommate's posture. Kurapika groaned, which was not a very Kurapika thing to do. "Gon's sick. Norovirus. He wouldn't even let me into the apartment, but he said he spent the past 24 hours puking and sleeping, so he forgot to tell me I don't need to come over."

"Good call. The norovirus is an ugly one, trust me, you don't wanna catch it. You'll only be sick for a few days, but it really wrecks your shop. It goes right-"

"Leorio, if you value your life, don't finish that sentence. I don't wanna think of it."

"Right, uh. So... no fun math times with Gon?"

Kurapika laughed bitterly. He slanted his shoulder so that his bag slipped off, and crawled onto the couch like a sick dog. Laid down on his bak, without bothering to take off his shoes. Not a good sign. "Math times with Gon are never fun," Kurapika said. He cracked open an eye. "Have you cleaned up?"

"A bit. Are you... alright?"

"My back and shoulders are killing me." He draped his arm across his eyes.

Carefully, Leorio lowered the book onto the coffee table and shuffled closer to the couch. He sat down on the edge of a seat, his back almost brushing against Kurapika's propped up legs. "You know, I used to work as a masseur, so if you'd like to, I could..."

"Does that require me getting up?"

"Yes."

"Then no."

Leorio made a pensive noise. Too tired to move meant too tired to tear him a new one, right? So maybe... maybe he could give this open-and-honest thing a shot. And if it went wrong, he could probably outrun Kurapika in this condition. "I found your sketchbook while I was cleaning. It was under the coffee table."

"Huh," Kurapika said. He didn't stir, didn't lower his arm from his eyes. "I don't remember dropping it."

"Yeah, so..."Leorio's innards twisted into an uneasy knot. Okay, this was it. Now or never. "Just curious, but why do you have so many sketches of me? Not that I mind."

A heartbeat of silence. Kurapika not moving in a way that made Leorio wonder if he was still breathing, like, maybe he had suddenly turned to stone. Then, slowly, Kurapika sat up. He didn't look at Leorio and his mouth was a tight line that betrayed no emotion other than discomfort. "You weren't meant to see that."

"Yeah, but I did and I'd like to talk about it."

"And I would like you to keep your nose out of my stuff unless I gave you permission to stick it in there."

In an act of pure self-preservation, Leorio did not give in to the urge to make a very stupid remark about other things he didn't mind 'sticking in there'. God, he'd seen too much hentai. Ironically, of course.

"Look, if you wanna be angry at me, fine. I found it, and maybe I should've closed it right when I realized what it was, but- I was surprised. I didn't think you'd pay that much attention to me."

"Don't flatter yourself. You're good anatomy practice, that's all."

"Right. Well, you could've asked, you know. Anytime. You're like the only person I'd take my clothes of for, for free. Well, you know, for art purposes. There are other reasons to get naked that don't involve money at all and, uh-"

"This conversation is over," Kurapika announced and tried to scuttle off the couch, struggling to get past Leorio, who was still sitting in the middle. His efforts to caterpillar away were slow and clumsy, almost as much of a trainwreck as Leorio's attempts to have a proper conversation.

"Wait, please." Leorio put his hand on Kurapika's knee. Kurapika froze. "Look, do you maybe want to grab dinner with me? As in a date kind of way?"

"All I want," Kurapika says, every word enunciated with a sharp, dangerous edge, "is to not have to see your face for the rest of the day."

"Oh."

"Now take your hand off me or you'll lose it."

Leorio retreated, raising both his hands defensively and taking a few steps away from the couch, until he felt his calves bump against the coffee table. "Sorry," he mumbled, but it wasn't just a s _ orry I got a little too close for comfort _ , it was also a  _ sorry I got it all wrong again, sorry I upset you _ .

There was nothing else he could do right now but let Kurapika go.

 

* * *

 

Leorio couldn't sleep. 

The heat suffocated him like a giant blanket, heavy with humidity and although he had already stripped down to his underwear, he still felt gross. Skin too tight, tacky with sweat. Nerves jittery with frustration. A chorus of angry thoughts buzzing in his head that made it impossible to relax.

Maybe, if he pressed his face hard enough in his pillow and screamed until his throat and lungs burned, he could find the sweet release of death and didn't have to worry about how to face Kurapika tomorrow. He needed to fix this, somehow. 

And then his door creaked as someone slipped into his room, placing their naked feet carefully on the floor. They approached the bed. Leorio raised his head from his pillow and squinted, trying to make sense of this familiar shadow in the night.

"I thought you didn't want to see my face no more today."

"It's past midnight, that qualifies as a new day. And I barely see you," Kurapika argued.

Leorio grunted. Lawyer logic. But whatever, if Kurapika wanted to talk now, he'd take it. 

"Did you mean it?", Kurapika whispered.

"Did I mean what?"

"The date. I need to know if you were serious about it."

"I- why would I not be serious about it?"

"I don't know!" Kurapika's voice spiralled higher, then cracked. "You tease me all the time and you make inappropriate jokes and I can never tell if you're trying to flirt or if you're just being a dick."

_ Oh. _ "Pika, I-" Leorio fumbled for the stack of milk crates next to his bed that served as a makeshift nightstand until he found a switch. And when the yellow light of his lava lamp painted Kurapika in a soft glow, every desperate assurance got stuck in Leorio's throat. Kurapika looked so small in his oversized sleeping t-shirt which fell right to the middle of his thighs - his surprisingly fit thighs whose sight made the blood rush to Leorio's ears.

"You own a lava lamp, really?", Kurapika said and the ghost of a smile spread across his lips. "And you actually cleaned up!"

"Yeah," Leorio croaked. Jesus, he sounded like his throat had turned into a desert. "Couldn't risk you going blind whenever you barge in."

"How... considerate."

"Well, you know me," Leorio said and then he fell quiet again because Kurapika's eyes were too dark and too serene and they seemed to take all of him in.

"Leorio-"

"Will you stay?"

Kurapika blinked. "For the night?"

"Yeah. I can't sleep anyway and, I dunno. I like having you around. I'll keep my hands to myself, I promise." Although the narrow frame of his bed did not allow much room for a second person and Leorio had never been that good at making himself small. But he scooted over, all the way to the end of the mattress, offering to share his space at least.

And Kurapika just stood there, fingers playing with the hem of his t-shirt. "This isn't going to help with the heat at all, you know."

"Yeah, probably not."

Kurapika crept on to the bed and curled himself up, almost like a cat. Not reaching out, not even looking at Leorio. "You know," he began, and his index finger ran little circles across the sheet, "you don't  _ always _ have to keep your hands to yourself. But it's not fair when I'm angry with you and you're being... distracting."

"I am?"

"Very."

"And... will you let me know if you're up to being distracted?"

Kurapika made a noise between a snicker and a huff. "Let me buy you dinner first, how about that?"

"Hey, that's not fair,  _ I _ was going to buy you dinner first."

"Fine, but then I'm going to get us dinner  _ and _ take you to the movies."

"Oh, so this is a competition now? What do I get if I win?"

Kurapika smiled, softly, and Leorio knew he had already lost.

 


End file.
